So, I guess this is it
by fluffykitty12
Summary: When Rick disappears on an adventure without Morty and is gone for weeks, Morty presumes him dead. Unable to cope with being 'special', school, his parents fighting, and just life, without Rick's guidance, he decides the only way out is death. But not everything is what it seems. Trigger Warning; contains attempted suicide. Feedback appreciated.
1. The Attempt

**I'd really appreciate feedback. It just seemed like Morty was pretty miserable before Rick came into his life, and that he wouldn't be able to cope well knowing that Rick- his only friend, and grandpa- was gone, and he was stuck to face reality without the escape their adventures gave him. Please review- tell me if it's too dark, or too OOC.**

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"A-a-aw man…." Morty muttered, trying to ignore the gaping feeling of emptiness in his chest. He tried to curl even more against himself, but he was already curled up like a cat, bent nearly double. All he wanted was to disappear.

School had been getting worse. Mostly, it'd was bearable- he only really went half a day or so, before Rick pulled him out on some hair-brained adventure. But Rick was gone- he'd been gone for nearly two weeks, and things were beginning to spiral out of hand.

School was a constant battle- Jessica had only noticed him when he'd been tripped in lunch and landed face-first in his lunch tray of goulash, he'd been beaten up in the locker room three times, and he was constantly on edge in the hallways, since he'd always be shoved, tripped, or have his books knocked out of his hands when he least expected it.

He could barely function, that was how bad things were. He panicked when someone touched him, expecting to be thrown into the wall like they were the school lockers, called a retard, or spat on.

His parents were fighting more, too- and it wasn't about the usual stuff, either. He knew his mother had noticed he'd been coming home with bruises, how miserable he'd been lately, and his Dad was on the verge of moving out.

He couldn't help but feel like a burden to them- normally, Rick was busy taking care of him, but now, he just felt like a strain on his parents' already fragile marriage. It was all falling apart.

He was shaking and crying, he realized, and he closed his eyes and felt the disgust running through him. _W-w-why do I have to be so w-w-weak? So slow? 'Special'…._

Rick had been gone for two weeks. Normally, he'd be able to handle it- Rick was unpredictable and erratic, at best, and he was known to disappear for a few days without explanation here and there.

But two weeks was far too long- his life had absolutely gone to shit- and he was exhausted, so tired of dragging his ass out of bed with nothing to look forward to, no place to feel accepted- yeah, Rick was a jerk, but he treated Morty well, like his own, actually. He hadn't realized how much Rick's sci-fi adventures kept him stable until he was gone….

It was nearly one in the morning. His parents were asleep, and he wasn't sure whether to be thankful or hurt they didn't even care enough to check on him. What the hell was going on in his life?

He got to his feet, an idea striking him. He sniffed, wiping his nose on his sleeve, hugging himself defensively as his feet padded down the hallway quietly, before he reached the garage. He'd gotten an idea- just because Rick was gone, didn't mean he couldn't communicate with him. Rick had to have some sort or radio device with him, he'd be able to find SOMETHING in the garage so he could contact him and figure out when his grandpa would be back….

He sat down at the workbench, pulling a rumpled piece of paper from his back pocket and following the instructions he'd carefully written down. He'd seen Rick use the scanner before, to check for Ricks from other dimensions, and he carefully hit the buttons, waiting as it compiled a list of the various Ricks….

He blinked, bleary eyes searching the screen hopefully.

Rick-201, Rick-202, Rick-204….

He bolted forward, staring at the screen, shocked.

"No…."

He wasn't there. His grandpa wasn't showing up. He went over the list until his vision went bury, but his Rick, _his grandpa,_ was nowhere to be found.

"No! No, no, no…." he paced the garage frantically, kicking out at the garage wall in frustration, surprised when his foot went through the drywall. He'd never been that strong before, but adrenalin and despair ran through his veins as he sank to the floor, pulling his legs to his chest and burying his face in his knees, struggling to just _breathe…._

The scanner showed EVERYTHING. All Ricks present at the moment- if Rick wasn't showing up, that meant he was _dead…._

He buried his face in his knees and wept. His grandpa, the only friend he'd ever really had- was gone.

He fell over onto his side at some point, and eventually he was out of tears, just lying on the cement floor, eyes sandy, muscles aching, unable to gather the willpower to move. His grandpa- the only bright part in his life- was gone.

Somehow, he summoned the resolve to stagger to his feet, managing to fall into Rick's chair.

His blurry vision settled on the desk before him- there was an empty beer can, a screw driver, some unfortunate gadget his Grandpa had been half-way through taking apart, and a few scraps of paper….

One in particular caught his eye, and he snatched it up like a lifeline, bloodshot eyes scanning the spidery handwriting desperately….

 _Morty- had to leave. Intergalactic bullshit and stuff- I should only be gone for a few days. See you soon, you little shit._

 _-Rick_

He read the note over and overt- it was dated _two weeks ago._ Rick had said only a few days, the scanner hadn't picked up his grandpa- which meant only one thing. His grandpa really WAS gone. He stared at the wall for an hour, the knowledge just sinking in. His grandpa was really gone.

He took a shaking breath, trying to think rationally- he could find another dimension, one where the Morty was dead, and take his place….

But he already knew it was bullshit. He'd had a hard enough time adjusting when he and Rick had had to change realities the first time and take the place of their dead counterparts, and he knew there was no way he'd be able to assimilate himself without Rick….

The universe just wasn't cut out to have him as a Morty. Every Rick needed a Morty- but every Morty needed a Rick, as well.

He stood up with grim resolve, realizing he couldn't go on without his Grandpa. He'd been given hope, freedom- yes, it'd been scary, but adventuring with his Grandpa had been the only bright spot in his life, and he couldn't cope living without it, without _him,_ now.

Luckily, even someone as 'special' as him knew how to off themselves. He felt numb- he wouldn't really miss this place, not really. Rick had been the only thing he'd truly cared about, and with his only friend gone, there didn't seem to be much to live for here, anyways.

That was all he was thinking as he numbly shuffled over to Rick's liquor cabinet, pulling out a few bottles and setting them on the desk before shuffling inside, raiding the medicine cabinet and shuffling back out, dropping the rattling pill bottles beside the booze. It'd be painless- hell, even if it did hurt, he wasn't really sure he'd care. He was so numb at this point, he'd take any way out.

He idly wondered about his family- they were nice people, yeah, but they were never his. As long as he could remember, he'd been Grandpa Rick's- and nothing was going to change that. He wouldn't live in a place where he was 'special', and nobody could love him like his Grandpa had.

Still- he couldn't just DIE without a reason. He at least owed them an explanation, and he sat down at the desk, pulling out a paper and a pen, scrawling down a quick note, before he returned to sit cross-legged on the cement floor, opening a bottle of booze and filling his palm with pills.

He took a deep breath. "See you soon, Grandpa." Was all he said, before he threw back the pills, swallowing it down with a generous mouthful of booze.

His throat burned, but he took another swallow anyways, struggling to hold back the sputter coughs as his eyes watered. He had no idea why Grandpa Rick had liked this stuff, but when the buzz started to hit him, he realized it wasn't so bad.

 _Just like going to sleep- you'll wake up with Grandpa Rick._

He shoveled down another handful of pills, and another, and before he knew it, half the bottle of whiskey was gone, and in his stupor he spilled the rest and was left fumbling to open another bottle.

At some point, he began to shake so badly he couldn't even open the child-proof caps on the pills bottles- he didn't even know what he'd been taking, and he ended up spread-eagle on the floor, watching his vision begin to fade. The struggled to lift the bottle to his lips again, it was so… _heavy…._

He downed another swallow before he lost his grip and the bottle hit the floor, splintering into shards of glass.

He finally gave in, letting the darkness that'd been creeping into his vision take over, and the murky waters of unconsciousness to pull him under into her sweet embrace. He didn't regret a thing as he was enveloped by blessed blackness.


	2. Rick Returns

**More angst. Yay! I got 3 reviews! Please keep giving feedback, guys! Is Rick too caring, or characterized well?**

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Rick stepped out of the portal on the garage wall, pocket jingling and a triumphant grin on his face. His coat was torn and dirt- he'd been gone for way longer than he'd anticipated, but he'd gotten the genetically modified beans he needed.

All he was really thinking of was slamming down some booze and then going to bed. He nearly tripped over something, though, and frowned.

"What the h- ** _urrp_** -ell?"

He looked down to see Morty on the ground. Had… had the kid fallen asleep out here waiting for him?

"Morty- h- _ **urrp**_ -ey Morto- get your ass off the ground."

He blinked, exhausted and surprised when the boy didn't move.

"M-morty?" he knelt down to pick the boy up, rolling him onto his back to find a puddle of brackish vomit beside the boy, some of it dried on his shirt. The vomit reeked of booze, and he blinked, surprised….

There was a variety of pill bottles strewn around, as well, and suddenly he was wide awake, heart pounding in his throat.

"Shit! Jesus fuck, M-Morty, what the fuck…." He was already moving, finding a pulse on the boy's neck, however weak and erratic it was.

He was tearing through the first aid kit, then, trying to ignore how shallow the boy's breathing was, the way his eyes were rolled back in his head, until he found what he was looking for. A Miceryan Hell Crystal- he forced the boy's mouth open. It'd be incredibly painful for the boy to eat, but better than him dying here on the garage floor.

He forced it down his grandson's throat, watching the boy's eyelids flutter- his body lunched forward as he sat bolt upright, a mixture of alcohol, blood and bile escaping his lips-

Rick simply held him up, watching the boy puke up everything he'd ingested in the last 24 hours with mute anxiety- it absolutely REEKED of booze, there were still some recognizable pills in the mixture, as well as thick, glue-like gobs of white that could only be from the meds he'd taken.

It lasted at least 5 minutes- all of it was painful to watch, and his only hope was Morty was too out of it to remember what it felt like. He could tell the boy had purged everything he'd eaten when he fell to the side, nearly landing in a puddle of his own vomit- Rick quickly caught him, though, wiping the vomit from his face with a grease-stained rag he'd gotten from his workbench.

He clutched the boy's wrist, finding his pulse- still slow, still weak, but stronger than before. That had to be good, right?

He hefted the boy onto his arm, sweeping the projects off a metal table with one hand before setting the boy down, grabbing some monitoring equipment he'd used when he'd been working on Anatomy Park….

He had a steady pulse. At least, that was what his piece of shit monitor said. If what he'd heard about the Miceryan Hell Crystal was true, he'd purged himself of almost everything. The burning feeling in his limbs would stop within an hour or two, and he should be fine.

Unfortunately, that did little to help him right now.

He turned and looked at the garage- it was a mess, with broken bottles, pills, and vomit all over the floor, and he realized what'd actually just happened.

"J-jesus Morty…."

Why the hell had his grandson done something like this? He could clean up the mess later- right now, he just wanted answers.

He walked across the garage carefully, noticing the scanner was on- and that he hadn't shown up on it. He grinned despite himself, looking at his wristband- it really DID work to conceal his existence, then.

He noticed a crumpled up sheet of paper in Morty's handwriting and looked at it, surprised for a moment. The kid had actually managed to figure out how he used the scanner to look for other Ricks. That must've meant he'd checked for him- and seen he wasn't there.

He'd never told Morty you could hide your designation and slip under the scanner's radar, either- he hadn't known himself, until he'd tested out his dilythium cloaker wristband….

But Morty didn't know that. He must've realized he'd been gone longer than he'd said on the note, scanned for him and found nothing, and thought he was… gone.

"Dammit!" he punched the wall, frustrated. This was his fault- all of it. Why couldn't he have been reliable for once, took the kid aside and explained he was testing out a cloaking device?

He was breathing heavily, and he swallowed, blinking rapidly. _Just… just don't think about it_ ….

It worked for all the other fucked up things he'd seen, caused, and done, but for this one, it didn't.

How- how could he get over this? Morty- his own grandson….

"F-fuck- pull it together, Rick." He growled at himself, looking down at the table Morty was lying on. He'd need someone to care for him until he woke up- _if_ he woke up at all….

He found himself instinctively reaching for his flask, but stopped himself. He needed to keep a clear head if he wanted to take care of Morty, and drinking wouldn't allow it. It hurt just to look at the kid- pale as death, so limp, so... small. But he had to do it- and he would. He'd gotten them into this mess, after all- he'd get them out.

He sighed, running a hand through his ice-blue hair in frustration. He could do this- for Morty, he'd do it.

The boy moaned, eyes moving rapidly beneath his closed lids, and Rick hesitated for only a moment before he sat down on the metal table beside the boy, pulling him into his lap.

"H-hey, M-morty." He got out, stuttering from strain as he tried to hold back all the emotion dammed up at the back of his throat. He reached out hesitantly, running a hand through the boy's hair- "Y-you're a good kid, y-you know that, Morty? You know that, r-right?" his voice was nearly breaking, but his grandson was laying against his chest, dead to the world- and maybe dead forever, soon.

"Y-you're the _b-best Morty_. I know there's a lot of Morty's out there- but n-none of them would ever replace you."

The boy was limp in his arms. He wasn't going to wake up anytime soon- hell, Rick didn't want him to- the Miceryan Hell Crystal was true, he'd be in a lot of pain if he did.

"Y-you're a great kid, Morty. You're not smart, but you're _my_ Morty- m-my little buddy. My little buddy-" he choked back a sob. He wasn't going to cry, wasn't going to admit defeat….

He reached out, gently wiping a bit of drool from the boy's chin. "Y-you know your grandpa.. he…- I love you, Morty."

He closed his eyes, resting his chin in the boy's hair. He smelled the familiar scent- pencil shavings and boy's cologne, beneath the stench of booze and rolled down his face and landed on the boy's head.

"G-get some sleep, Morty. I'll be here, w-waiting for you, when you wake up. Grandpa Rick's waiting for you, little buddy." He gasped as everything hit him all at once, pulling the boy closer to his chest and letting eh tears cascade down his face. Morty would wake up, soon- he'd have to. Or Rick just might have to follow him to wherever it was death took him, on some new grand adventure.


	3. A Much Needed Conversation

**Alright, i'm back! Sorry this chapter took a little longer- I had to think out the dialogue, since I wanted everyone here to remain in character. Please review!**

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Rick moved him down to the subterrainean layer of the garage before hosing down the garage floors, vaporizing the pill bottles, and sweeping up the broken glass. The garage looked normal, now- the last thing he needed was Beth finding the mess everything had made.

He shut th hatch of the subterrainean layer behind him- as long as things stayed relatively quiet down here, no one would question their abscence. They'd think they were gone on another late night adventure.

God only knew what that shithead Jerry would do if he found otu what'd really happened last night. Hell, even he didn't know what to do, and he strode over to Morty carefully. The boy was laying on a stained matress he'd rigged up, still hooked up to monitors, still beeping. He was alive, at least.

Rick had a million other inventions that needed tweaking, and a couple correspondences from alternate Ricks that needed answering- but for once, he sat sill at the boy's bedside, anxiously watching the rise and fall of his chest, praying he'd wake up.

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The first thing he registered was pain. He ached everywhere- his head throbbed, he was hellishly warm, almost roasting within his own skin- and he had a disgustingly vomit-like taste in his mouth.

He must've moaned- he could feel his lips moving, but he didn't really register any sound. It was like his head was full of cotton.

"-orty... Mor-" his hearing was fuzzing out, he realized, and he groaned and turned his head away. Every sensation, every sound _hurt,_ he just wanted to go back to the nothingness...

"Morty!" someone grabbed him by his shoulders, sending white hot agony shooting through his aching limbs, and he gasped, eyes flying open, only to be blinded by the brightness and pull back, crying out, trying to curl in on himself...

He must've whited out for a second, because the next thing he was aware of was the smell of his Grandpa Rick as he was pulled into a bone crushing hug.

"Thank god, Morty..."

He was vaguely aware of not beign able to hold his own head up- instead, it flopped onto Rick's shoulder like he was an infant. After a few seconds of great difficulty, he managed to turn his head to the side and see... tears... on Rick's face. It was then he was sure he was either dead or hallucinating, since Rick never cried, and his body gave out again, unable to keep up with the continual assault on his senses that was consciousness, and he was welcomed into blackness once again.

* * *

It wasn't as painful the second time he came to. Sure, his limbs felt too hot, but it wasn't the same hellish burning as before, and while it felt as though he'd swallowed a mouthful of broken glass, at least it didn't hurt when he felt the blankets he was resting on make contact with his skin.

He moaned, slowly sitting up, hand to his head. He hardly remembered what'd happened- he was here physically, but mentally, his mind was still catching up to his body.

"Morty!" Rick started awake from where he'd been dozing in a chair beside the boy's bed, shocking Morty as he threw his arms around the boy and pulled him in for a hug. Rick almost never hugged him, and it was then he realized something must've been seriously wrong.

Rick finally pulled back from him after a long moment, eyes meeting his own seriously, hands still resting on the boy's shoulders. "Y-you really had me w-worried for a while there, Morty. D-don't think you can try that shit again, you hear me?" his eyes searched Morty's own confused ones seriously for a moment.

And it all came crashing down on Morty like a chandelier. Rick had been dead, his entire world had gone to shit, he'd given up- he'd thought his only friend was gone, he'd downed those pills like it was nothing- shame swept over him like a tidal wave, then, and a moment later he was crying, clinging to his grandpa for dear life, burying his face in his chest and clinging to his lab coat for dear life.

"M-Morty. It's gonna be okay, alright? You're okay-"

Morty could barely hear him over his own sobbing. How could things ever be alright again? He'd done something horrible- and even though he was alive, he still felt like an idiot- Rick was alive- he'd tried to kill himself, he'd almost _died,_ because he was too dumb to use the scanner.

"Y-you were dead!" the rawness in his own voice shocked him as he shouted, not caring about how torn up his throat already was. "The scanner- y-you were gone, a-and I was alone... I couldn't do it anymore."

"I'm here, Morty, I-I'm fine, it's alright..."

"It's not alright!" he shoved himself away from Rick, trying to get to his feet.

"W-whoa there, Morty, slow down..."

He forced himself to his feet, stumbling and falling to his knees but forcing himself up despite his weakness. He was raging, now, the raw force of his emotions seemed to be tearing him apart at the seams.

"No it's not! I'm still a failure! I-I should've _known,_ I almost died for no reason... I'm such a _fuckup_!" he pitched forward, nearly running into the wall, but Rick caught him.

"That's not true, Mort-"

"We both know I'm ' _as dumb as they come'!_ So stop it! Stop pretending I'm not 'special'! _Godammit!_ " tears streamed down his face as he swore heartily, cursing his own weakness as his legs gave out beneath him. If his body were cooperating, he could've made it to the other side of... wherever he was... and find a blaster, finish what he'd failed at in the first place.

"Hey!" Rick snapped sharply, dragging him across the floor and hefting the boy onto the bed, shoving him onto the mattress with more force than he intended and hearing the boy's muffled yelp of pain as his sore body came in contact with the bed. He winced internally- the boy was still fragile- he should've been more careful, despite his anger- but he shoved the thoughts on the backburner.

"Don't you _dare_ say that shit about yourself. You're b-brilliant, Morty!"

"Stop _lying!"_

The conviction in the boy's voice nearly broke his heart. He really believe he was that dumb, that worthless? Sure, he'd cracked jokes about Morty's intelligence, but he assumed Morty understood that that was all they were- jokes. Everyone looked stupid if they compared themselves to him.

"I'm not lying, Morty! Would you quit tearing yourself apart for two damn seconds!?"

Morty was quiet for a moment. He looked pale- he panted slightly, and Rick realized he must've overexerted himself.

"Y-you're _different,_ Morty. Y-yeah, you're not the sharpest in school- but it's because you're not _programed_ that way. You're like me, Morty- you were made for adventure, for things better than math and tests. W-why else do you think you're my partner, Morty? you think other kids can fly a fucking space ship, or use grappling boots to escape customs, or survive shoot-outs with the intergalactic police? No. That's what's special, Morty- that's you."

"It seems like nobody gets it. Your idiot father told you you had a learning disability, but he was wrong. Hell, your father thinks I'm a degenerate, too, but we're _not-_ we're different, Morty. You're different. You're better than them."

"R-really? You're not lying?" Morty wiped his eyes on the back of his hand, looking up at Rick with red-rimmed eyes.

"No, Morty. I'm not."

"T-then why tell me I'm dumb all the time?"

"Because I didn't want you getting too cocky. Cocky gets you killed out there, Morty."

"S-so you're not dead?"

"No, Morty-"

"But the scanner said-"

"The scanner was right, Morty. I was testing a new cloaking device, one that hid my prescense from other Ricks _and_ their scanning devices. It worked." he rolled up the sleeve of his lab coat, revealing the wristband to Morty.

Morty looked intrigued by it for a moment, before his expression crumbled. "W-why do you need that, Rick? I-I thought I was your cloaking device." the kid sounded hurt. But Rick could forgive the neediness in the boy's tone, after what he'd just been through.

"You _are_ my cloaking device, Morty. This is just incase we get seperated- I made you one, too. Don't want them to be able to find you either, Morty..." Rick slapped the surprisingly heavy metal braclet onto the boy's wrist, locking it like it was a handcuff.

"H-how do these things even work, anyways?" Morty asked, squinting as he scrutinized the device with a critical eye.

"Well, I monitored your brain waves when you were sleeping. There was a pattern, Morty- I rigged this up to emit the exact same frequencies as your intelligence, and- bam! It crosses out my brain waves! Same with yours- it's programmed with _my_ brain waves, Morty. It'll make sure no hostile Rick-haters out there can find you. Pretty cool, huh? Two braclets, thinking in perfect opposites..."

"Huh. Yeah, it's neat..." Morty was fighting a losing battle to stay awake for Rick's sake, and Rick wouldn't have it.

"Get some sleep, M-rgh-orty. I got shit to do, anyways."

He completely failed to hide the way his lips twitched into a smile when he looked back and realized Morty was already fast asleep.


	4. Rick will save him

**Welp, this is probably the last chapter, unless I decide to include one of Rick and Moty's 'talks' after this. Please review!**

 _He put the metal to his forehead, ignoring how he was practically drenched in alcohol, tears streaming down his face as he knelt on the pavement, in the dark, alone._

 _He didn't focus on is blaster, though, or his flask, laying in a puddle of spilled booze beside him. He looked at the orn picture in his other hand, rapidly wilting as a stray tear landed on it._

 _"I'm sorry, Beth- I'm sorry. Daddy's not there- Daddy thought he was doing greater things with science. Daddy was wrong."_

 _The picture fell from his shaking hand, landing in the puddle of booze. He stared at it tearfully- it was soaked, now, it was ruined. Fitting, poetic, even- he couldn't even keep a picture of his child safe, let alone be a functional parent. Instead he was running around other dimensions, he'd deluded himself into thinking he was actually doing the world some good._

 _And he'd lost everything. He'd come back to see Beth for her eighth birthday only to find both her and her mother gone, the house for sale- hell, Beth probably didn't even remember him, anyways. He was hardly ever around._

 _"I'm sorry." he took a shaking breath, his lip quivering as his hand shook from the sheer emotions he was expiriencing. He was the smartest man in the world- but he couldn't even keep his family together, couldn't stop all his relationships from fracturing-_

Worthless. _the wind seemed to whisper to him as he looked up at the cloudy night sky._ Pathetic. You can cross the cosmos, transcend to other worlds- but you will never be loved.

 _He grit his teeth, pressing the barrel into his temple harder. He had the capability to do anything- but all he was left with, no matter the feats he achieved- was nothing._

 _He closed his eyes and pulled the trigger._

 _He'd expected to just cease existing. There was no god, after all, no afterlife- his nerves wouldn't have the capability to make sense of the blaster hitting his brain before he was dead. There would be no pain- just- oblivion._

 _Which was why, seconds later, he opened his eyes, surprised he was, in fact, still existing._

 _He pulled the blaster away from his head, examining it in his hands, turning it over, opening the compartment to scrutinize the inner workings, before throwing back his head and laughing._

 _The fucking battery had died. "Useless piece of shit." he growled, chucking it across the deserted parking lot before flopping onto his back, into a puddle of more of his spilled booze. "Fucking universe." he didn't have the coherency to get up, and he spent the time watching the clouds move across the night sky idly, shrouding the moon, until he eventually passed out only to wake up in the morning around dawn and stumble to his feet, retrieve his blaster, and grumble before he was stumbling down the sidewalk towards wherever. He'd done his damndest- he just wasn't going to die yet. Fate was a cruel bastard._

He looked up from the memory- he'd been repairing the very same blaster, though he hadn't touched it or even really moved in nearly half an hour. He sighed, dropping the screwdriver onto the metal table with a clang, getting to his feet and crossing the room to sit beside Morty, who was still sleeping.

He knew he'd never have this conversation with the boy if he were awake, but that he had to get it out. He ran a hand through the boy's brown hair absently, looking down at his grandson. He was young- far younger than he'd been when he'd first tried to off himself. He didn't know wether to be impressed or horrified by that fact, and the underground room was silent, save for the beeping of the monitors.

He was sure Morty was out of danger now, but he'd left them hooked up anyways- the beeping, the very sound of the boy's heartbeats, was soothing to him.

"It was never supposed to be you." Rick admitted sadly. "I mean, me- I-I just figured I'd get drunk or sad and off myself someday. Y-you were my hope, Morty. You were the reason I didn't down pills with all the alcohol one night, and the reason I didn't fly myself into a black hole after things didn't work out with that one girl... Because you had to have someone to have adventures with. Every Morty needs a Rick." he smiled slightly at the last part- it was ironic- Morty had been unable to cope without him, and the boy didn't know how much spending time with him motivated him to stay alive, as well.

"And that's far too much to ask of anyone, Morty. Let alone a fourteen year old kid. But you did it, Morty. Y-you surprised me, you surprised everyone- you better not fucking remember this when you wake up, because y-you don't need to be worried about your Grandpa. You have enough going on as it is."

"I never thought you'd do this, either. I never knew I meant that much to you- I don't think I've ever meant that much to anyone, buddy- but I'll try not to disappoint you." he smoothed the hair back from the boy's forehead, smiling.

"You'd better wake up soon, you little shit. It's not the same without you asking pointless questions about everything."

He turned around, going back to work on his blaster. Morty didn't look as pale as he did before- he was on the mend. Now all Rick had to do was try and teach the kid some damn coping skills so he didn't try this again. But there was plenty of time for that.

* * *

"H-hey, Rick?" it was two days later when Morty was able to walk around without looking like complete shit that he peered in on his grandpa, looking slightly excited.

"Yeah, Morty?"

"C-can we go on an adventure?"

Rick grinned. "I thought you'd never ask." in an instant, a portal was spattered on the garage wall, green light alluring.

Before Rick could even come up with a jab at taking forever, Morty was through the portal.

He shook his head, grinning, before checking his cloaking device. Everything was still go- he'd wired it to receive signals from Morty's cloaker, as well. It would shock him if the boy's vital signs dropped below normal levels, and he grinned.

"Aaaand the Grandson has landed." he managed, before jumping in after him.

It was just a regular day for Rick Sanchez. But Morty's world was about to get a whole lot bigger.

 **Well? What do you think? I know the last few chapters didn't have burping in the dialogue, but I figured Rick could repress the urge to do so, since they were having such a meaningful conversation.**

 **Rick isn't going to treat Morty any differently after this- he'll still look out for him, like he always does, but they may sit down once a week to check in on Morty's state of mind and go over coping skills, like the chapter says, so Morty can live a sucessful life after Rick's gone.**


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